


Run Fast, Little Fox

by asarcasticwitch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Breeding, Claiming Bites, Come Inflation, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Full Shift Werewolves, Implied Mpreg, King Peter Hale, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Rituals, Mild Blood, Not Beta Read, Older Man/Younger Man, POV Third Person, Prince Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Eighteen Years Old, Top Peter Hale, Werefox Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24111124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asarcasticwitch/pseuds/asarcasticwitch
Summary: ‘Run fast, little fox. It won’t save you, for no matter how fast you run, I will catch you, and when I do, you are mine.’
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 24
Kudos: 490





	Run Fast, Little Fox

**Author's Note:**

> I got dared to write smut in under two thousand words, so here we are. I really don't know how some of you manage to write something even halfway decent with such a small word count 'cause I really struggled. Usually, I need that many words just to set the scene, so I bow down to your superiority, you guys are magic. 
> 
> I actually started writing the outline for this a few months ago after I got a tattoo of a wolf and a fox and it's been mulling around in my drafts ever since. I have no idea how I took a tattoo and came up with an idea for a fic, but that's just proof that my imagination is wild.
> 
> All mistakes are mine and as always, please heed the tags—turn back now if anything up there bothers or offends you. 
> 
> Stay safe, all, and enjoy!

His breath is like fire in his lungs; every inhale like a hundred knives cutting him from the inside. His bare feet throbbing painfully with every desperate stride over the rough forest floor.

The air bites at his skin, sharp and insistent, whistling an eerie tune as it dances amongst the trees that surround him. He feels the rush of adrenaline spark through his veins as he forces himself to keep going. To get away from what he’s left behind—the predator that chases him.

_‘Run fast, little fox. It won’t save you, for no matter how fast you run, I will catch you, and when I do, you are mine.’_

The lust-filled words echo around the space behind his eyes, the deep gravelly voice overwhelming him. His body is vibrating with the intensity of the promise flashing bold between the lines.

His cock juts out, hard and heavy between his sweat-soaked thighs, red and weeping with the anticipation of being caught, of being taken. 

The rustling of crisp autumn leaves behind him causes his breath to hitch in his throat. His heart stutters as the thrill becomes almost too much to bear, his legs trembling with equal parts overexertion and desire.

He glances around him, chest heaving as he concentrates on his surroundings. The eve is dark; his eyes gradually adjust to make out the vague outline of the trees, the moons soft white glow the sole source of light, faintly illuminating the path ahead enough for his vulpine senses to focus.

He hears it again, the stalking crunch of footsteps, slow and calculated—a ferocious beast cornering its prey.

And then nothing.

The sudden silence is deafening, so haunting that the blood running through his veins and the rapid _beat, beat, beat_ of his heart are the only noises left to ground him.

“I know you are there, wolf.” Stiles barely recognizes his own voice as it breaks through the quiet, wrecked and breathless, but still determined. “Come out and take what’s yours.”

A gasp escapes his lips as a pair of piercing red eyes pin him to the spot; a rumbling chuckle follows as the menacing shadow of danger personified emerges through the darkness. “Oh, I intend to.”

Stiles doesn’t think, doesn’t speak; he just smirks mischievously as his bones creak, muscles twist, and skin sprouts fiery orange fur. Cunningly, he maneuvers around the looming presence, once again darting through the trees, now with the added speed of his animal form.

A wolf may be strong, but a fox is smart. A wolf may be fast, but a fox is faster. No one said anything about making it easy. No one said anything about playing fair.

If the wolf wants a chase, a chase he will get.

“Little cheat,” Peter growls, low and frustrated, but Stiles knows the wolf's instincts will be nothing less than ecstatic with having the chance to prove himself a worthy mate. He’ll be nothing less than proud of his fox’s devilish wiles.

Stiles yips playfully, his small and agile frame leaping as he widens the distance between them. A primal rumble forces his legs to move faster beneath him, to carry him deeper into the forest, as far into the territory as he can go. 

The thundering beat of four paws crunching against the hardened dirt follows close behind, alerting him that the end is almost upon him.

Or perhaps it’s just the beginning. 

Stiles is knocked to the ground, a large mass barrelling into him from the side, sending him sprawling atop the twigs and leaves. He doesn’t try to run again, doesn’t even bother rising to his feet; he just rolls onto his back, offering his unyielding submission to the purring wolf above him.

As soon as fangs gently nip at his throat in approval, his fur leisurely recedes, once again becoming delicately flushed skin and inelegantly lithe human limbs.

“You caught me,” he pants as he runs his fingers through the warm black pelt blanketing him. He wraps his arms around the wolf tightly, relishing in the change of texture beneath his hands as Peter’s smooth coat turns back into tanned flesh and powerful muscle. 

“I will always catch you, little fox,” Peter purrs into his ear, barely a hint of exertion. “And now, you’re _mine.”_

“Always,” Stiles whispers, breathless as Peter’s lips, hungry and commanding, cover the skin above his collarbone, nipping and sucking until the white blooms to purple.

Stiles is overwhelmed in sensation, drowning in Peter's touch, his lips, his teeth, his tongue, and his hands exploring him, laying claim to every part of his bare flesh. He can’t hold back the whimpers, the desperate pleas of more. He’s waited so long for this moment, waited an eternity for Peter to claim him, to take him body and soul.

The vast woodland space around them soon fills with their obscene moans, their lustful pants as they move together in perfect sync, chasing their pleasure. Stiles can feel Peter's claws prickle the skin on his hips, not quite cutting but a grounding pressure that sends sparks straight to his core.

“Peter,” he gasps as his cock ruts up against the wolf’s own, giving him the sweet and satisfying friction he craves.

“What do you need, little one?”

“I-I need to feel you inside me,” Stiles pleads, his body searing with passionate hunger. “Please, my wolf, take me.”

Peter groans into his shoulder, his claws flexing as he breathes deeply before flipping him onto his belly in one swift motion. His knees are pulled under him, presenting himself to the wolf completely, submitting with no hint of reluctance.

Slick drips down between his thighs, his earlier preparations a welcome sight as the wolf rumbles approvingly in his chest. “You prepared yourself for me?” Peter gasps in awe, running his fingers tentatively through the wetness. “So perfect... my sweet, sweet fox.” 

Stiles whimpers as Peter’s thick fingers breach him, widening him further, making sure he’s ready while whispering soft words of praise into his ear. 

Stiles becomes an incoherent mess in no time, high pitched mewls falling from him unbidden as Peter angles his hand just right, hitting a sensitive spot along his velvet walls that jolts his body forward. Tendrils of white shoot behind his eyes as he rocks back eagerly, chasing the intoxicating stretch of Peter’s fingers inside him, chasing that delightful spark of sensation over and over again.

“Are you ready, my love?”

Stiles nods into the ground below, only just managing to gasp out a quiet affirmative, a sound so hushed that only supernatural hearing could pick it up. 

The moment Peter enters him, his whole world rotates. After several months of courting, of innocent words, and subtle touches in front of the court, they can finally display their affections for the world to see. After several months of fantasizing, of dreaming about having each other in the most erotic way, they are finally fused—two hearts beating as one.

Peter’s thrusts are sure and deep, playing Stiles’ body as expertly as he does his harp, riling him up in an embarrassingly short space of time. His bestial side is showing no mercy as he works them both up to the precipice of euphoria. 

Peter leans over him, his chest sliding against his back as one hand curls into his hair, pulling lightly to bend his neck backward. The other hand tightens further on his hip, the possessively bruising pressure making Stiles’ cock drip profusely onto the foliage below.

“I’m going to breed you,” Peter groans into his cheek as he kisses him, his hips never faltering. He ruts into Stiles impossibly harder, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from low in his chest. “I’ll fuck you full until it takes,” the wolf continues. Stiles cries out as Peter’s fingers tighten their grasp in his hair, lips ghosting against the curve of his ear. “Knot you until you’re round with pups.” 

Stiles moans wantonly; he hears the slurring in Peter's words and knowing that his wolf's fangs have extended, itching to claim, has the fire in his gut burning higher, threatening to consume him. “Yes, my King, please,” Stiles pleads, his eyes sparkling violet as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable. “Make me _yours_.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes open with a silent scream as the base of his wolf's cock begins to swell. Peter is carving his place inside him, hollowing him out, his knot intensifying Stiles’ bliss to the point of delirium as he locks them together. 

With several more shallow thrusts, Peter empties deep into his gut. Stiles feels his belly gradually inflating as the wolf pulses fiercely through his pleasure before sinking his fangs into his neck. A trickling pool of blood flows over his skin, the thick warm liquid soothing the sharp sting of Peter’s teeth. 

The brief pain of the bite subsides almost instantly, making way for the white-hot ecstasy erupting through Stiles’ body as their bond finally cements itself. Every muscle tenses violently, the pleasure bursting through him with surprising brutality, almost crippling him with its intensity. 

After a few moments, he feels his limbs go lax, powerless to stop it, but Peter’s strong arm wraps around his chest before he collapses entirely onto the ground. 

The wolf’s triumphant roar shakes the forest, ricocheting off every solid surface, filling every empty space in its entirety.

The joyous answering yips and howls from both their packs thunder in the distance, enveloping them in a comforting embrace—the sound a celebration; a benevolent acclamation to their joining. 

Mieczyslaw Stilinski, Prince of Beacon, and Peter Hale, King of Triskelion, are now irrevocably mated.

Stiles couldn’t be happier. 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this could have been a full-length novel, but I've read so many medieval Teen Wolf fics that I worry I won't be able to come up with something unique. I just don't know if there are any more storylines I could contribute that centre around Stiles being a fox Prince and Peter a wolf King. 
> 
> I may explore the possibility of writing something historical at some point or even expanding on this, but I'd probably more likely do regency than medieval. We shall see.
> 
> Side Note: Mpreg isn't my thing, personally, so I didn't go into detail, but I really like it when Peter's (or even Derek's) werewolf instincts get involved, and they get hard at the thought of breeding Stiles and him carrying their pups. No idea why, but I just think it's low-key hot—forgive me, Father—so I added it in.
> 
> If you think I need to add any tags or warnings, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at [asarcasticwitch](http://asarcasticwitch.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
